


Smile (Like You Mean It)

by cave_leporem



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cave_leporem/pseuds/cave_leporem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dani drags a reluctant Marc away from analysing what happened at Brno. With obligatory teasing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile (Like You Mean It)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't stopped smiling yet; I had to write *something* for Brno. Well done, Dani!
> 
> Title is from a song I can't remember the details of; it ain't mine, regardless. This is a work of fiction; no offence is meant to any of the people mentioned.
> 
> Enjoi.

Everything’s packed up and ready to go. Dani’s just leaving himself, about to go and celebrate with Vale and Jorge, when he notices the lights still on in the other side of the garage.

Marc’s still there. Of _course_ Marc is still there, pouring over data, trying to work out what went on today. God knows it’s something Dani’s done enough times this year already.

“You shook my hand,” he says, out of the blue. But then, he didn’t really know how to start this conversation (or if he even _wanted_ to start this conversation, so-)

Marc startles and drops the papers he’s holding. He plasters on a smile when he sees it’s Dani there. “You had a really great race today,” he says, happiness that doesn’t quite ring true underneath the words. “You deserved it.”

Dani steps forwards and crouches down, knocking Marc’s hands away as he picks up the scattered pages. “There.” He puts them in the other rider’s lap and nods to the empty seat next to him. “May I?”

“You don’t need to ask,” Marc mutters, staring determinedly at his lap.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me to bugger off,” Dani says, grinning crookedly.

Marc doesn’t smile. “I’m not a hypocrite,” he says to the papers. “You had a good race, a deserved win, and I respect that and I _am_ happy for you,” he takes a deep, calming breath. “Even if I’m doing a terrible job at showing it.”

Dani reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “You said you weren’t worried about losing your streak. You didn’t imagine it-”

“Like this? Off the podium?” Marc ruefully laughs. “God, I’m getting arrogant, if I thought the only way I’d be off the podium was if I’d chucked it in the gravel.” He cocks his head, like he even has to think about it. “It _is_ the first time I’ve finished off the podium, when I’ve actually finished the race.”

“How the other half live,” Dani says dryly. “No, don’t frown, I’m taking the piss, Marc.” He sighs, and punches the younger man lightly on the same shoulder.

“Your cheering up skills suck,” Marc notes. “You were trying to cheer me up, right?”

His team mate laughs. “Yes, I was _trying_ to cheer you up, you little shit. Thank you for noticing.”

Marc finally looks up, and he’s wearing a small, grateful smile. “You don’t have to do that. You should be celebrating.”

“I will be,” Dani nods. “I wondered if you wanted to come with us?”

Marc snorts. “Not sure I’ll be welcome, if you’re all celebrating beating the aforementioned ‘little shit’.”

“And?” Dani smiles almost impishly, and Marc reflects that he’s seen the older man smile more this afternoon than in the entire first half of the season. “Are you really concerned with treading on somebody’s feelings?”

Marc shoves him back. “I’m not an arsehole off the track, you know.”

“Probably better than most,” Dani raises an eyebrow at Marc. Their friendship was entirely unexpected, but Dani’s enjoyed the last season and a half with Marc across the garage more than he ever thought possible. “Coming or staying?” He asks again.

With a huff, Marc puts away the papers and heaves himself up. “You really want to lord it over me, don’t you?”

Dani doesn’t deny the accusation; they’re both smiling now, so it’s okay. “Oh, yeah.”

“Fine. Where are we going?”                  

Dani rubs the back of his neck. “I think Jorge put it, ‘where are we going, _first_?’”

Marc narrows his eyes. “Don’t even pretend to be dreading this. I see that poorly hidden grin, Pedrosa.”

“I’ll enjoy it more with you there.” Dani lets his grin free. “Come on!”

“You just want me there to take the piss out of in person,” Marc mutters, but he acquiesces to the smaller man now tugging on his arm. “Thanks,” he adds half-heartedly; he _is_ feeling better with the thought of putting away the data and having fun for the night.

Even if it is at his expense. Marc’s arrogant enough to be able to take a joke or three. (Or ten, if need be.)

“For what?” Dani’s pretending innocence now. Fine, if that’s the way he wants it.

“I’ll be coming for you in Silverstone,” Marc warns him. “This is a one-off, a blip, a hole in the carefully-planned schedule.”

“Whatever it takes for you to sleep,” Dani says, carelessly, “ _Nothing_ can bring down my mood tonight. And bring it, Marquez.”

“You’re planning on sleeping? What kind of celebration _is_ this?” Marc grins at him.

“My one,” Dani smiles so widely Marc can see his teeth. It’s a rare smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees softly. “It is. Congratulations, Dani.”

The older rider nudges him as they walk out.

“Thanks, Marc.”


End file.
